


Shadows

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Prompt: First time they made up and camping.  This is an out in the wilds fluff fic with no quality literary redeeming features.





	Shadows

Soft grey ash flared bright orange every time the wind gusted. He prodded the last remnants of a log and it crumbled in a sharp flash of flame. Bitter smoke filled his lungs. He wriggled on the camp chair. His lower back ached, his thighs cramped, the creeping cold had left his neck and shoulders stiff. Somewhere, a dog howled.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said and hung his head in his hands.

Before they’d left, he’d memorised the list of potential cryptids one could find camping in this region. As a kind of joke. But Scully hadn’t found it that funny when he suggested the barking dog was the Beast of Barrington.

He looked over his shoulder to watch the tent entrance roof flapping against the poles and the fiery shadows tripping over the canvas. Shit. He was an ass.

The zip climbed its runners and Scully appeared, beautifully, wonderfully mussed. “Yes, you are, Mulder.”

Sometime earlier, after almost finishing a bottle and a half of red, they’d tested the quality and strength of their double height camping mattress (and found it suitably sturdy, if a little on the short side) Scully fell into a deep sleep. In the afterglow, he imagined that he had a hand (or a finger or tongue or other body part) in her ability to flake out so completely, but the reality was simply that she could sleep anywhere, especially with a fair quantity of merlot running through her veins. His brain and body, in the meantime, betrayed him and he lay there listening, thinking. The tent flapped rhythmically. The lantern cast a soft, shadowy glow, the patterns on the walls changing on the wind. And that’s when the whole thing started.

He slipped out, Scully barely stirred with the unzipping of the tent. He gathered the supplies and propped them up at the best angle. Inside, he adjusted the lantern. And like a miracle, the wind whipped up and the distant dog barked. Shadows formed.

“Scully,” he hissed, jabbing her side. She mumbled and rolled away from him. “Scully, I don’t want to alarm you but I think the Beast found us.”

“Shut up, Mulder,” she said, pulling the unzipped sleeping bag they shared higher up her neck.

The wind whistled through the leaves outside and Mulder sat up, tapping her on the shoulder. “Look, Scully.”

“For fuck’s sake, Mulder, I’m asleep,” she said. And he should have given up there and then. But he was on a roll.

“I’m getting my weapon and I suggest you do the same.” He kept his voice even.

There was a sudden rustle from her side of the bed, the wind blew, the shadows danced and the dog howled. “Shit!” she launched herself back towards him, landing on her backside directly on his weapon, shrieking in pain as they tumbled off the mattress (double height) and landing in a tangle on the hard ground. Then the half empty bottle of wine teetered on the camping table and before he could free his hand to grab it, the burgundy contents dropped over Scully’s head.

“Shit!” she said.

“Shit,” he sighed.

Now, she stood by the fire shivering. He tapped his lap.

“Come here,” he said.

“I don’t think the chair will cope.”

“We bought super sturdy ones, remember? How’s the…bruise?” She sat sideways across him and he wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s going to be bright purple by the time the sun comes up.” She laid her cheek against his shoulder and her legs over the arm of the chair. “You and your beasts, Mulder. They’ll be the death of you. Or me.”

He chuckled. “Well, I survived the night outside, no weapon, no tough woman by my side. I must have done something right.” He reached down to find her lips and they were warm and more welcoming than he deserved. “But can I get back into your good books?”

“You’ll have to pay extra attention to me for the next few days, if this trip is going to be a success.”

“And what exactly will that entail?”

“There’s cooking and cleaning, there’s replenishing our water supplies, there’s foot and shoulder massaging,” her voice lowered as he started to roll the muscles around her neck before kissing her again. “And then there’s the TLC side of things. That might involve some personal care, some washing, some drying, some oiling, some…”

“Loving?” he said around her tongue.

“Plenty of that, Mulder.”

They tested the capacity of the camping chair, its strength, its reclining feature. The sun burned off the dawn clouds and the fire finally snuffed out. He looked down at Scully, nestled by his side.

“Purple suits you, Scully.”

“Hmmmm?” She shifted and ran a hand along her ass. “It hurts, Mulder,” she whined.

“I’ll rub it better after.”

“After what?”

“After I shower you. Your ass isn’t the only thing that’s purple.” He traced the contours of her face and smiled down at her, tried to run his hand through the tangled matt of now deep red hair that sat around her head. “The vintage was noticeable. You did taste pretty good.”


End file.
